


Don't You Love When I Come Around

by youbecamemyhabit



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Dotae if you squint, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Happy ending bitches bc life is already shitty enough, I Tried, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Side-Yujae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:12:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youbecamemyhabit/pseuds/youbecamemyhabit
Summary: Youngho, a modest piano teacher, is forced to live next door to Taeil's apartment for a few months, and that proves to be the most exhausting and wonderful experience of his life.ora "your apartment is next to/above mine and i can hear you and your partner dancing and singing and the bed moving and you two laughing and talking in hussed tones and it won’t let me sleep so i bitch about it to you 24/7 and one day it stops and one day turns to one week and then months and i haven’t seen you smile in forever please let me in, i’ve been knocking for ten minutes"au.





	1. YOUNGHO

**Author's Note:**

> howdy girls gays and goths!
> 
> this is surprisingly my first nct fic, even though i stan then for more than a year already... lmao  
> at first was because i didn't have any ship strong enough to prompt me to write, but now i have a few and, well, this is what came out of it.  
> thanks @bloominggays for helping choose this prompt and the neverending support, i hope you like this (i tried!!!)
> 
> the title is from Get You, by Daniel Caesar feat. Kali Uchis
> 
> anyways, enjoy (or not)

At first, all Youngho saw was faceless figures. Well, they weren’t actually faceless, but somehow in every single occasion that he spotted the couple around their building complex, they had their backs turned to him.

One of them had bright, cherry red hair and was a bit shorter than the other man, but nothing about him seemed small when he walked beside his partner, so confident and cheerful to be beside the person he loved. All in all, he seemed to have nice features if the unfavorable angles that Youngho was always limited by could tell him anything.

His partner had a sotto voce and the habit of pulling his chocolate brown hair up for no reason at all, even in the middle of his sweet chats with his boyfriend, or whatever they were; his broad shoulders made his image match greatly with the shorter man’s, and he was usually the biggest fan of skinship.

All of that being said, the important thing to know was that Youngho had never even seen their faces, but hated them to the core.

“You can’t hate people for being happy, you know?” Yuta chortled, settling his elbows over the table as he took another sip of his beer.

“You could fill a complaint.” Taeyong presented a different point. “You have… rights?”

“Good God, Taeyong.” Yuta shook his head in disapproval, promptly rolling his eyes at their friend. “You just sound like an old man. Youngho. _Bro_. Just talk to them, maybe? It’s just a small affair.”

“Small affair?” Even Youngho himself was startled by how strongly his fist hit against the restaurant’s table. “They are the goddamn _worst_ , Yuta. They sing, they laugh, they play the guitar, they dance, they move things around a lot… All the time. I’m fucking losing my mind.”

“Yet…” Yuta clicked his tongue. “You’re too nice to actually say anything about it. That’s just who you are.”

Partially true.

“I can be rude to them if I wanted to, okay?”

At that, even Taeyong cackled, letting his head fall backwards to the point where all his blond hair fell in the same direction.

“Youngho.” Taeyong wheezed, trying to regain his seriousness. “Someone once poured kimchi on your shirt and you apologized for it.”

“It was out of instinct!”

“It’s not like you’re going to stay there for much longer, anyway.” Yuta tried to soothe the situation. “We all know relationships cool down after a while.”

With a sigh, Youngho’s gaze shifted down to his glass of soju, still with small residues from his last shot. The scent of meat grilling in front of them invaded his senses once again, and he tried to ground himself to his surroundings.

All the noise around them was partially shut down as his eyes now moved to the chopsticks that clinked on the table, before grabbing a piece of meat and enveloping it in lettuce.

Taeyong let out a snort after chewing on his food.

“You and Yoonoh have been together for almost a year and you’re both still disgusting.”

And yet, Yuta couldn’t care less.

“At least I have a boyfriend waiting for me at home, not just video games.”

The banter between them was inevitable, but they knew they didn’t take it to the heart. Their friendship dated back all the way to high school, when Youngho still went by his American name, Johnny; even though he was born in the United States, he was still fully Korean, but all the kids treated him as a foreigner. It wasn’t until a bit later into the semester that Yuta arrived — the Japanese boy excelled at everything, including his good looks and smooth talk, yet they bonded over the sentiment of always being left out.

Or just until they met Taeyong.

Taeyong was a slender and kind kid, horrible at soccer, but still played just to be around his friends. One fateful day, he spotted Yuta and Youngho sitting by themselves during lunch time in the cafeteria and greeted them — keenly, the boy’s tongue was fast in asking if Youngho had any interest in soccer (he didn’t) and praised Yuta for his Korean language skills, mentioning how not even he was _that good_ at his own mother tongue.

They played video games at Taeyong’s house in the same day, and never were separated again.

Years later, Yuta and Taeyong were accepted into the same college, but not Youngho. He remembered, back then, telling the boys to not feel sad about it — Youngho did receive other offers, it wasn’t just too prestigious like theirs. And he had enjoyed, roughly, his experience, even though he was away from his best friends most of the time.

During their college years, their packed schedules didn’t allow them to see each other as much as they did before in high school, but there was always a movie night or drinks at a cheap bar downtown once they were all of legal age. Youngho got used to have to listen, for countless minutes, Yuta saying how Taeyong’s roommate found their friend’s obsession with cleaning insufferable, only to have Taeyong spout back that Yuta was barely seen in class by his friends, always chasing down some pretty boy, and yet managed to get top grades. Insufferable and unfair, as Taeyong described, only to get a middle finger from their Japanese friend.

Youngho, on the other hand, fell into a comfortable silence as he never had much to tell. His dorm life was pretty boring — his roommate was quite average, didn’t cause much trouble, but also didn’t seek to interact anything beyond necessary. The guy was always on the phone planning a hang out, or next weekend’s party, or some date with a girl who he always claimed to be the hottest (a different one, every week). It was clear that they didn’t have much in common, but Youngho was glad that the dude at least didn’t bring his fucks into their room. At least when he was there.

Boring wasn’t that bad. Boring was also peaceful, and God knows how Youngho appreciated his peace. He majored in Music, with a minor in Photography — art had always been the only thing he was sure he loved to do, so when his parents allowed him to pursue his dream career, he had never been more grateful. And that was it for him: four years of frequently falling in and out of love with his dreams, while trying to balance his mild love life and a part-time job at a convenience store a block away from campus.

What could be said about the only boyfriend he ever had was that he was really, really nice. Kun, a Chinese transfer student, majored in Music like him; he was absolutely in love with singing and every kitten in the world, and perhaps the most delicate person Youngho had ever met. Being with him brought a wave of calmness in Youngho’s heart that, maybe, was what he needed at that time.

But that was it.

When they broke up, Youngho told him how he cared too much about Kun to be with him without being able to offer everything he deserved, but the whole truth was that the man didn’t make Youngho feel anything else beyond what he mentioned; Youngho could feel himself falling into that comfortable stage where he’d prefer to stay in that relationship only out of habit, so he did what he thought was right.

They ended it pretty well, still maintaining contact even after they graduated. Kun went back to China and, the last time they had exchanged texts, he was getting ready to release an album next year, fully self-produced. While work was all Kun ever talked about, Youngho dearly wished for his ex to find love again, someday.

Regardless of being too busy with their final dissertation, Yuta and Taeyong came to his graduation ceremony only to be the loud fools that they always had been; as always, his parents chuckled at his friends’ antics, while everyone else around gave them a weird look as Youngho walked on stage to grab his diploma.

All is well, he remembered quietly thinking.

Adult life waits for no one, though. Ever since that, his days and weeks seemed to get shorter each moment Youngho had the time to notice, almost as if someone had pressed the fast forward button of his life; some years were just a blur in his memory, but it wasn’t something to mind much in the big picture.

He landed a pretty decent job at a Music Conservatory as, initially, a piano TA. A whole year later of demonstrating his abilities not only teaching, but also in being wait more patient than most got him a permanent position and good reputation in the school, to the point where lots of students personally asked to have lessons with him instead of other teachers — Youngho kindly refused most of them since his weekly schedule was completely full for that semester, but appreciated their intentions.

As soon as he naively told his friend about it, Yuta and Taeyong started calling him “Everybody’s oppa”.

His life wasn’t exactly exciting, but the love Youngho had for what he did was enough to appreciate his limited routine; going to work and going back to his tiny and cozy apartment was perfectly alright, with the occasional company of his friends.

Until the day his relatives asked for a goddamn favor.

Because that’s all relatives know what to do: they disappear from your daily life right after the end of your childhood, then surface only when they feel like using you for something.

Youngho went all the way to his parents’ house, on the other side of the city, just so he could whine that, no, he didn’t want to spend three months living in their apartment just because his aunt and uncle didn’t trust their landlord to take care of their plants, as if the guy had some sort of personal vendetta against them and was going to destroy everything once his aunt, uncle and cousin boarded on a plane to Europe.

But, as always, Youngho played _nice_ and gave in. And because of such stupidity, he had met his archenemies.

The lovebirds.

He was only one step inside his relatives’ apartment when the chatter and laughter arose in the one next door.

“Oh, God.” Youngho mouthed to himself, closing his eyes as he sighed. “Please, I need sleep.”

It didn’t help that, for such luxurious complex, the walls were pretty fucking thin.

And the lovebirds didn’t give a shit about it. Once Youngho managed to fall asleep, it was already past midnight.

Hours felt like just minutes of decent sleep, but he got up to fulfill his responsibilities anyway.

That very same morning was the first time he saw their faces.

Giggling like kids, the couple’s steps were hurried as they yelled for Youngho, currently the only person in the elevator, to hold the door for them — for a split second, he considered not doing it. That was it. His small revenge for the endless hours that they had kept him awake with their lovey-dovey shenanigans.

But he’d feel bad about it later, Youngho hadn’t a doubt. So he pressed the button to keep the door open.

The first thing he saw was strands of red hair swirling inside the elevator and looked down at one of the men, the shorter one; he had an easy smile on his face, tightly holding the hand of his partner as if his life depended on it. His sharp features blended well with his soft voice, regardless.

His partner had a softer look, with the same mild tone that Youngho recognized for being way louder when the man was in the presence of people he felt comfortable around. If his memory wasn’t misguided, the taller man was the one who sang a lot whenever there was a guitar being played, but Youngho could be mistaken.

“Good morning.” The brown-haired bowed to him, and Youngho nearly forgot he was supposed to detest them. He was undoubtedly handsome, with delicate and fair skin. “Thank you for holding the door.”

“No problem.” Youngho’s voice came out way too toneless, but he didn’t mind much.

“You are the guy living next door to us, right?” The shorter man had a curious look as he looked Youngho from head to toe. “Doyoung told me someone new moved in a few weeks ago.”

Doyoung was their landlord. Just one year younger than Youngho, and the man already took care of an expensive building complex ever since his parents left for a year-long vacation. His neighbors either hated or adored him, but Youngho didn’t know the guy too well to form an opinion.

“Yes.” He confirmed, adjusting his messenger bag on his shoulder.

“Cool.” The red-haired commented, playing with his boyfriend’s hand. “You’re a quiet guy, huh?”

“And you are not.”

_Fuck._

His blood ran cold too quickly. Youngho did his best to believe that he hadn’t spoken out loud what was going on in his mind, but it was too late.

The guy with red hair arched an eyebrow at him, and Youngho felt rather small under his glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Out of anxiety, Youngho adjusted his bag on his shoulder again, shifting sideways to look directly at the man. The cat was out of the bag already, so fuck it.

“You must know the amount of noise you make, especially at night.”

“Fill a complaint to Doyoung, then.”

In the very next second, the elevator came to a halt with a _ting_ as they reached the ground floor.

The red-haired shot a final scowl at him and tugged his partner by the hand, while the latter relentlessly bowed at him with an apologetic look.

That’s how his daily squabbles with Taeil began.

Short, cherry red hair, usually quiet when in the presence of strangers. Youngho discovered his name after complaining to Doyoung about the goddamn noise his neighbor made every single night, and the guy actually took his side in the matter, which didn’t make Taeil quite happy.

Out for another day of work, the doors of the elevator were almost closed off when determined fingers stood in the way.

“Good morning, Seo.” The red-haired’s honeyed voice arose as he made his way in. “Not looking too well, I should say.”

“Maybe if someone didn’t keep dancing way past midnight, I would’ve slept better.”

Taeil’s face turned into a fake grimace.

“That sucks. You should complain to the landlord or something.”

_Ting._

The elevator doors opened once again and Taeil left with a knowing smirk plastered in his mouth.

Moon Taeil was a mystery, and was the most well-known person in the complex at the same time. No one knew much about him other than the fact that his family was well-off to the point that they put that apartment under his name; Youngho once heard a neighbor talking about an issue with them, but they didn’t get into any more details. It baffled the conservative crowd in that complex that Taeil freely walked around showing off affection for his boyfriend, and that was the part of him that Youngho liked the most.

The only one, actually.

Another morning, another witty greeting.

“Seo.” Taeil quickly bowed, turning his back to him.

“Moon.” He replied with a sigh, clasping the strap of his bag. “Your tap dancing is going well, clearly.”

“Oh.” The man slowly turned around, simpering. “You noticed? Thank you. I’ve been adamant in getting better these days, don’t know why.”

“These _nights_ , you mean.”

Taeil snickered.

“Is time even real?”

“Yes, to people who work early. Do you even work?”

Once again, the man came and went as it pleased him, sauntering outside the elevator as soon as they reached the ground floor.

This pattern repeated itself for two entire weeks; Youngho would step out of the apartment to go to work only to be followed by his red-haired neighbor, hell-bent on tickling his nerves at that ungodly hour. Maybe he didn’t actually work, if the rumors of the man being rich were true, and his only day-to-day goal was to pester Youngho because of his noise complaint.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the last time he saw Taeil that day. After his relatively calm day of work, Youngho stepped inside his building’s elevator only to find his red-haired neighbor standing there; eyebrow arched at him, Taeil held hands with his boyfriend, as he usually did.

“Oh. Good night, Youngho-ssi.” Jungwoo, the boyfriend, was a quite pleasant person with his usual small voice. “Have you been well?”

Youngho liked him. He was always polite and kind, but always into a little mischief when by his partner’s side.

“I’m good, thanks. I hope you’re doing well.”

“I’m doing great too, thanks.” Taeil spoke out of nowhere, playfully.

“Hyung…” Jungwoo softly reprimanded him.

Whenever he saw Taeil’s boyfriend around were the nights where the noise relatively lessened, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to attribute that to the brown-haired’s presence. Maybe, when alone, Taeil’s only purpose was to make it impossible for Youngho to sleep early.

The following day, the daring presence of his neighbor — nor Jungwoo’s — wasn’t there to be found pestering him all the way to the ground floor.

Nor on the day after that, or a whole week after their last encounter.

Gradually, then all at once, his nights turned into a mellow atmosphere almost likely to be grasped; it brushed over Youngho’s skin as he walked around the apartment, wary of that new found silence that, somehow, didn’t feel right. It took him more than a week to feel slightly comfortable in that place, but now all the awkwardness that only him and the goddamn plants got to witness was back and Youngho didn’t know what to do.

In the end, he felt rather silly, honestly.

Time passed in waves, confusing Youngho’s memories of what day it was — in the middle of a Saturday, he nearly rushed out of the apartment before remembering it was the weekend, and he didn’t have any classes. It was weird to think of the silence as an unusual occurrence, but his body and mind had gotten used to Taeil and Jungwoo’s couple shenanigans way too much to not think that there was something strange about it.

“What do you think?” He asked Yuta, in their middle of their lunch.

It was the first time since their last dinner that his friend had time to catch up with him in person; Taeyong was way too busy working his ass off at his bakery to show up, but Youngho didn’t mind.

“Don’t know.” Yuta shrugged, putting a piece of grilled meat on Yoonoh’s bowl. “Maybe he went on a vacation?”

“He didn’t. I asked Doyoung—”

“Your landlord?” His friend chuckled.

“Yeah. Apparently, he’s his childhood friend or something. He actually didn’t say much, just said he didn’t leave.”

“Good God, Seo Youngho.” Yuta’s ringing voice came out way too dramatic, and Yoonoh giggled, making dimples appear on his cheeks. “Why are you so invested? You got your peace, so what?”

“I think he means this is just too unexpected.” Yoonoh came forward, still facing his boyfriend. “It does seem weird.”

He liked Yuta’s boyfriend. A bit more than year before, they met through a friend of Taeyong that Youngho didn’t recall the name, and had been inseparable since then. At first sight, the man seemed a bit shy, but he got along quite well with Yuta’s colorful personality, even showing he had some of his own too. He always made Youngho laugh when he got too drunk and began singing out of nowhere.

“See! Yoonoh agrees!”

“Don’t start.” His friend gave him a serious look. “When you get obsessed with something, it’s a fucking nightmare. Just let it go.”

So he did.

Kind of.

For the next couple of weeks, Youngho’s unspoken ritual right after entering his apartment was to sit in silence in different rooms and look for any noise that could be Taeil-made, but it was as if he was living next to an empty apartment. His other neighbors’ daily shuffling startled him once in a while, but nothing that had the brand he was looking for.

Maybe he was indeed obsessed over nothing, as Yuta pointed out before. Even Taeyong, whom commonly was the one to encourage him to pursue what tickled his instincts, affirmed without a doubt that Youngho was just too caught up in the little routine he had set up with Taeil — and sometimes, Jungwoo — and what he was living through were purely symptoms of withdrawal, as if it was a goddamn addiction.

Or perhaps it was a sparkle of something interesting in his tedious life, now gone.

Three weeks was a long time for someone to be MIA, even though it was none of his business. Sometimes, when the sun melted in the horizon through the living room’s window, Youngho could almost feel like Taeil’s absence had lasted eons.

So, regardless of the intrinsic feeling he was being a fool, Youngho knocked on that door anyway.

“Taeil-ssi.” His voice oscillated badly, already declaring it as a mistake. “Taeil-ssi.”

Nothing.

Not even the living room’s lights seemed to be on, so perhaps his assumption was right, and he man wasn’t really at home.

He tried the doorbell now, hearing the ringing sound of it fade away as it spread across Taeil’s apartment. Silence emerged, and Youngho found himself pressing it again.

Still nothing.

_Guess I should head back to—_

The abrupt and violent opening of the front door had Youngho jumping backwards out of fright, with a hand over his chest.

“What do you want?” His voice was low and hoarse, as if his neighbor had just woken up.

Nothing but his face resembled the Taeil that Youngho got used to see around the apartment complex. His cherry red hair was a mess of strands sticking out in every direction, and bangs now falling over his face instead of being all the way up, carrying a sadness in it that swarmed all over the air between them — Youngho held his breath without noticing. Barefoot, Taeil wore just grey sweatpants and a shirt of same color.

“I…” All the words in his vocabulary suddenly disappeared, as if he was that teenager again struggling to prove he could speak Korean fluently.

The shorter man rolled his eyes at him and simply tromped back inside his apartment, not bothering to close his front door.

_What the hell does this mean? He wants me to come in or…?_

Youngho hated to have to read signs of whatever was supposedly to be subtly read on someone’s behavior, so he trusted himself just for a minute.

The living room was still infected by darkness, with the exception of a dim moonlight that passed through a window, but Youngho could quickly feel a presence moving fast in his direction.

His body flinched as Taeil marched right past to him, with his wallet and phone in hand, leaving Youngho standing there as if the shorter was the one invading that apartment.

“You coming or not?” The man spouted, holding the door open.

Nothing was said between them during the whole walk to a small barbecue place two blocks away from their building; the place was cozy and had good food, but almost seemed too modest for a neighborhood like that. Taeil kept his head down the whole time, fidgeting while he alternated the wallet and phone on each hand, quite acquainted with the atmosphere as they led them inside.

Youngho had only been there once — his friends lived a bit far and he wasn’t a fan of eating alone — but his neighbor knew the owners by the name, beckoning politely for them to be served.

“I’m pathetic.” The red-haired suddenly said with a huff, more than ten minutes into eating.

The sight waiting for Youngho, as he brought his gaze up, was Taeil downing his third bottle of soju. The meat grilled invaded his senses, making that place hotter than it already was. That wasn’t what Youngho minded, though.

_What the hell am I doing here?_

“Taeil-ssi.” Youngho slowly straightened his back on the stool he sat, in front of the man. “What—”

“You know…” His hazy speech made pretty clear he was already drunk. “ _Not_ the first time.”

“What?”

Taeil snorted, spilling a bit of his drink through the nose.

“That I got cheated on, Seo!” With an almost maniac laugh, Taeil slammed his cup against the table. “Keep up! Come on!”

_Oh… Oh._

For lacking a better expression of words, all Youngho was able to do was stare wide-eyed at the shorter man, as the world around him seemed to slowed down and the air around them seemed more rarefied.

But nothing made Taeil’s gaze less melancholic, so Youngho forced himself to speak up.

“I… I am sorry—”

“Nah.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I just…”

Taking one long gulp of his soju bottle, Taeil calmly put it down on the table, resting his elbows on it. Regardless of the man’s visible distress, Youngho once more felt small under his glare; the playfulness he was used to was gone for good, bangs falling over his eyes with a sharpness that could cut someone’s else fingers off.

“Why do you care?” Taeil’s voice came out gruff, but he could understand it well. “What the hell do you want?”

“Nothing.” Not gonna lie, he felt a bit offended. “You are my neighbor, and—”

“You hate me, Seo.”

“No.” Youngho furrowed his eyebrows quickly. “I don’t.”

“At least…” The man chuckled, but he didn’t quite mean it. “You get your peace now, right? You got it. What more—” Taeil burped. “What more do you want?”

“I was just…” He sighed, eyeing the now forgotten bowl of japchae. “Concerned. You disappeared—”

The sudden cackle was so loud it attracted the attention of the few people around, startling even Youngho.

“Everyone wants something in this world.” Taeil stated, and the smell of alcohol suddenly invaded Youngho’s senses way too violently. “Money, attention… to be loved, to be fucked, to be saved… so, Seo Youngho… what do you want?”

“I don’t know.” He could’ve lied, but Youngho felt like the man could see right into his soul. “I’m… just me. Nothing much.”

How could he explain that he didn’t know himself that well, without sounding like he was trying to be fake deep or something? Less words, less chance to be misunderstood.

“I thought I knew.” With another burp, Taeil’s gaze slowly shifted downwards.

There was a sadness hovering around that man that almost made it possible to be clenched, to be slightly felt if he slid his hand inside the thick fog surrounding Taeil’s being; he was broken by love the way that Youngho had never been before, so it would be just hypocritical of him to pretend he understood what Taeil was going through.

So, in silence, he sat in front of him until the red-haired seemed have enough of alcohol.

The atmosphere of their walk back home mirrored these last moments until Taeil tightened his hold on Youngho out of nowhere, as the taller gave the drunk man a piggyback ride.

“Hmm…” He sounded pretty soft, rubbing his cheek against the taller’s shoulder. Taeil didn’t weight much, as he predicted. “Seo. What… are you doing?”

An urge to laugh emerged in Youngho’s chest, but he restrained it.

“Taking us back home.”

“Why?”

A couple passed by them without acknowledging their presence, and Youngho made a pause on his quiet stroll.

“Do you want to sleep on the street?”

Taeil sturdily shook his head negatively.

“Then let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Exactly four days passed until he saw Taeil again.

Youngho walked inside his building’s elevator with his eyes shut as he let out a sharp exhale, fingers skimming haphazardly against the strap of his messenger bag; what was there to be missed was the red strands of hair that were a natural highlight against the plain silver of the elevator’s insides, so Youngho’s eyes naturally widened at the sight of his neighbor.

They hadn’t spoken since that night; luckily, Doyoung was at the main lobby when Youngho brought them inside and the man promptly volunteered to take Taeil to his apartment, thanking Youngho for taking care of him. The noiseless atmosphere in Taeil’s apartment lessened a bit, but at least now he knew that the man wasn’t dead or something.

Once in a while, in the middle of the night, Youngho woke up to sound of furniture being moved around in Taeil’s place; weirdly, it felt more right than the silence he was forcefully plunged into since the possible break-up with Jungwoo.

“Seo.” The red-haired gave a small nod, leaning his back on the elevator’s wall. His attires were a simple white shirt under a black bomber jacket, with jeans and white sneakers.

“Moon.” Youngho almost smiled, but had the feeling he’d look like an idiot.

And that was it. The entire ride was engulfed by a comfortable silence that didn’t feel like it needed to be broken, so Youngho’s mind deviated to what kind of food could he make with had he had at home.

_Ting._

The taller stepped out first, telling himself that he didn’t need to hurry his steps and make it look like he was avoid his neighbor — what there was even to dodge, anyway? He had been courteous and understanding, nothing to be worried about.

Just until he felt a strong tug on his jacket.

His twirl was quite rapid.

“Hmm?”

“Sorry.” Taeil’s voice was firm, but his eyes rapidly looked down and away. “About… that day.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not…” His sigh was louder than his tone, wearing a shy mien that Youngho hadn’t seen before. “Like that. It’s just…”

“It’s alright.” This time, the taller shot him a tiny smile. “Don’t worry.”

They quickly parted ways again, both going to their respective front doors.

Nothing but the sound of their electronic locks being opened could be heard in that hallway, and for the first time Youngho felt somewhat awkward about that whole situation. But what was even the problem?

It wasn’t like he was about to find out — more like he was about to _make_ one.

“Hey.” Before Taeil could fully enter his apartment, Youngho called for him. “Do you cook?”

In an almost comical way, Taeil looked around to check if the taller man was speaking to someone else, but they were the only ones in there.

“Me?” He pointed at himself. “Only if I wanted to burned the building down. Doyoung would kill me.”

Youngho’s grin was bigger this time.

“So… You only order in?”

“I have a lot of junk food stocked.”

“Oh, God.” His neighbor frowned at his disturbed mien, and at his sudden English. His brain reminded him to go back to Korean. “Do you… Do you wanna… I’m gonna cook something so I guess… Wanna come in?”

Taeil stood at his own doorstep for a few seconds with another one of his unreadable expressions, staring at him as if he was having an internal debate on what Youngho’s intentions were.

He ended up shrugging it off and locking up his door again, walking past Youngho as he entered the latter’s place.

That’s how his odd relationship with Moon Taeil began.

His neighbors’ excuse was, most of the time, the food that Youngho prepared — Taeil claimed to be able to smell it from his apartment, and how it was clearly a revenge for the lost days where Taeil used to pester him all night long.

It wasn’t like Youngho minded, anyway.

Now that he lived quite far away from Yuta and Taeyong, he didn’t have anyone he could talk to or someone to hang out with, so he took whatever that was that the universe was seemingly offering him.

“You went to Hanyang University? Holy shit.”

“What?” Sitting on the other end of the couch, in Youngho’s living room, the man arched an eyebrow at him. “Do I look dumb or what?”

Nearly two weeks had gone by since the first time Youngho had invited him for dinner, and it was a pleasure to know a bit more about him.

Moon Taeil was one year older than him, the second son of a prestigious family, whom he didn’t have contact anymore. After buying that very apartment that the man lived on, his parents registered it under his name and gave him a good amount of money, cutting ties with him because he came out as gay — when they found out he was dating a man, a bit more than a year ago, no one took his side, not even his younger sister.

But such thing didn’t break him down. Taeil’s claim was that, as much as it broke his heart, he didn’t need anyone in his life that didn’t love him for what he truly was. It all went down during his last semester in college, so the first year after his graduation was particularly difficult for him; he didn’t go in much details, though, which was comprehensible.

Taeil liked R&B and a lot of American movies, regardless of the fact that he had to watch them at least three times because he kept falling asleep in the middle of it. He’d also always throw a joke in the middle of saying something serious, just so he didn’t ruin completely the mood, but that easily flustered Taeil. As they became part of each other’s routine, the red-haired occasionally was the one who initiated some sort of quick skinship, and a part of Youngho’s brain kindly alerted him that he shouldn’t get too used to it.

“You don’t look dumb.” He told his neighbor, taking a sip of the beer on his hand that was already losing its iciness. “It’s because it’s a prestigious university. I’d say that to anyone.”

“Did some pretty good mistakes there.” Taeil now gave his attention the blockbuster in the TV. “I did _them_ , they did _me_ …”

When met with silence, the older man laughed.

“You know, I took a liking to annoy you because I thought you were just another homophobic ass, but after a while Doyoung called me an idiot because you used to date a guy…”

“Wait.” Youngho abruptly turned around in the couch, spilling a bit of his beer. “How did he know that?”

“It’s _Doyoung_. He knows everything. That’s why lots of people hate him. Even I used to hate him when I was a kid. He looked like a demon child back then, but he’s really kind. Except when I tell him he needs to get laid.”

The taller nodded, at nothing in particular.

After a moment, Taeil broke the soundless atmosphere again.

“Are you seeing someone?”

Youngho choked on his beer at the question.

“Jeez…” With a quick chuckle, his neighbor shifted closer to him and rubbed a hand on his back as Youngho calmed down.

There was it. Under his soft touch, Youngho melted in a way he was absolutely sure he shouldn’t. There was always a hidden desire to compare how little hands felt against his own, but he knew it was wrong. It didn’t feel unholy, but the way his heart raced whenever he shared a prolonged closeness with his neighbor was a warning sign; two thousand goddamn red lights flickering in his head, and yet Youngho couldn’t turn away.

“You good, Seo?” Taeil asked, in a tiny voice.

_Not when you stare at me like that._

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Okay.” Patting him on the back, the older man sheepishly smiled at him.

It didn’t help.

But Taeil didn’t mind, or didn’t notice, as he jumped off the couch to leave his apartment.

“See you around, Seo.”

One would think Youngho wasn’t aware what happened, but he did. He did and it was troublesome to the core, because just for once in his life he’d like to be a bit dumber about what was going on with his heart.

At first, he tried to tell himself that his sudden chumminess with his red-haired neighbor made him feel confused; sometimes, before he knocked on Taeil’s door to call him to eat or to go out for a drink, he heard small whimpers coming from his apartment. Obviously, he wasn’t over Jungwoo even though the guy did cheat on him, so why the hell Youngho’s heart thought it’d be okay to develop a crush on him?

It didn’t make sense, but those things seldom did.

Sometimes, in the space between the seconds that he got to glance at Taeil without getting caught, Youngho marveled how it was possible for one to tear their gaze away from Taeil, always burning brighter than he’s aware of, and not feel slightly colder.

Taeil didn’t talk much about his break-up besides the fact that he got cheated on. In their chats, whenever the topic got too close to a possible mention of his ex-boyfriend, his neighbor changed subject in the blink of an eye, so Youngho got the message clear.

But some things you can’t run away from, even if you try really hard.

“So, what’s your American name?” Taeil asked, two days later, a Thursday afternoon, in the middle of Fruits & Vegetables aisle in the supermarket.

“Johnny.” No answer was voiced, so he looked down at the man beside him. “Don’t like it?”

“I do.” The man nodded. “You look like a Johnny. Johnathan. John?”

Youngho chuckled as he picked up some fresh cabbage.

“Not even my relatives that still live in Chicago call me that anymore.”

They walked a few meters into the aisle when Taeil suddenly sighed.

“Seo, I’m bored.”

“You know you came here because you wanted to, right? You just followed me when I said I needed groceries.”

“And?” Taeil rolled his eyes at him, giving him a light punch in the arm.

Amidst his focus on trying to pick the best vegetables, Youngho didn’t notice his neighbor had disappeared from his side until the man dropped a bunch of things on his shopping cart.

“What the—” Under the mess of chips, cookies and a myriad of flavors of instant ramen, the carefully picked healthy food almost disappeared. “I’m not buying these.”

“It’s okay.” Taeil replied, leaning on the cart as his mouth curved into a smile. Youngho nearly faltered. “I’ll pay.”

“No.” Yet, he found strength to go against the red-haired’s wishes, taking the stuff out of the cart quickly. “Too much junk food.”

“Ah, come on.” The shorter man tried to put the things inside at the same pace. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m older than you, you know? I know what I’m doing.”

Youngho had to bit his lower lip to not cackle in there.

“No.” He reaffirmed, snatching a bag of chips from Taeil’s hand. “Not on my watch.”

With a quick hand move, Taeil tried to get a hold of it again, but Youngho promptly lifted it above his head.

“Yah, don’t use your height as an advantage!”

It was almost silly how happy he felt in the middle of that supermarket, as the red-haired jumped as fiercely as he could to try to take his chips back; _almost domestic_ , his brain kindly informed so Youngho would uselessly remember to prevent his feelings for Taeil to grow.

“You can’t have it.” As his laughter lessened, Taeil’s got louder.

“Gimme that!”

“Hyung?”

The external voice broke through their glee like a bullet, because both of them knew who it belonged to right on spot.

Taeil’s gaze shifted to the floor as Youngho turned around to confirm what he had heard.

Indeed, Jungwoo.

He looked well, as usual, with his typical smooth brown hair; under a thick green coat, he wore only a pair of jeans and a black tee.

“Taeil hyung.” The man softly called for Youngho’s neighbor again, whom now shifted sideways to face his ex.

“What?” Taeil replied, mildly annoyed.

Nothing about the way Jungwoo and Taeil stared at each other was impersonal, and Youngho had a growing feeling of intrusion by standing in their way.

“Can we talk?” Jungwoo asked, and now his eyes finally landed on Youngho. “How you’ve been, Youngho-ssi?”

Youngho’s grip on the shopping cart increased with such question.

Why the hell did the feel so angry at that man? He didn’t have any business to what had happened between Taeil and him, but again, he had seen how badly the break-up affect his neighbor, and, after all, he was Taeil’s… friend? Were they friends?

For a long moment, Youngho thought Taeil would refuse. He didn’t seem in the mood to deal with his ex-boyfriend, but, with a heavy and swift sigh, he nodded at the brown-haired man.

“Youngho.” His neighbor spoke, in an undertone. Never before the taller’s gaze shifted down so fast. The only time Taeil ever called him by his first name was when he meant something serious. “Sorry to…”

“It’s okay.” Unconsciously, his fingers gently grasped Taeil’s wrist, whom looked at him with another unreadable expression — eyebrows furrowed, and a tiny grin.

Red lights twinkling all over his mind. He didn’t want to let go of him.

But if that’s what Taeil wanted, who was him to get in the way? They had known each other for only two months, so who was Youngho to decide anything for him?

Much less than he’d like to be.

 

* * *

 

 _Ting_.

The surprise of seeing Taeil in that elevator early in the morning was more due the fact that he was wearing the same clothes he did the day before, so the man was probably coming back home just now.

Not that it had to mean anything.

Even if he did, he didn’t have the right to ask about.

But his dumb, caring nature acted faster than his logical brain could keep up with, so Youngho basically jolted inside the elevator and engulfed the shorter man into a hug.

For the stiffness in Taeil’s body, he knew that the man wasn’t enjoying it.

“Just a moment.” Youngho pleaded, leaning his body down to let his chin rest on Taeil’s shoulder.

Before things got too weird, he pulled away.

“What’s with the hug?” The red haired shifted sideways, trying not to show he was a bit uncomfortable as he pressed the button to the ground floor, where Youngho was headed.

“Are you okay?” The concern on his voice was too obvious, but he didn’t care.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Slept at Doyoung’s.” He pointed a finger to the ceiling, meaning the second to last floor.

“And…” Aware he’d die of curiosity if he didn’t ask, the taller took a leap of faith. “Jungwoo? You two…”

“We talked. He fell for someone else, you know.” Taeil didn’t seem quite sad; disappointed, perhaps. “And he’s younger, and dumb… And that’s a shitty combination. Doesn’t mean I’m not pissed off about being cheated on, we dated for seven fucking months but… uh… I don’t know. I’m tired.”

“So…” Youngho’s voice came out too hoarse, so he cleared his throat. “You two are back together or…”

The shorter man raised his head to squint at him.

“Of course not. If there’s something I don’t forgive is cheating.”

“Oh. Good.”

Now one of his eyebrows were arched at Youngho.

“ _Good?_ ”

“I mean…” Without necessity, he cleared his throat again. “You…”

_Ting._

Saved, literally, by the bell, Youngho scurried from the elevator bidding a hurried goodbye.

 

* * *

 

“…and that’s what I’m saying. We need it. Youngho. Bro. Yah, Seo Youngho!”

Yuta’s hand slamming on the restaurant’s table nearly had him dropping his phone on the floor.

“The fuck, Nakamoto?” Youngho blurted out in English, bringing his hand to his chest and switching back to Korean. “Why—”

“Am I talking to the air?” His friend distraughtly asked.

“I’m literally sitting by your side.” Taeyong remembered him, grabbing another piece of meat from the grill.

“But you were listening! Youngho’s mind was on goddamn Mars or something. I was saying we should hang out later, play some of Tae’s video games… you know, just chill for a few hours…”

“I can’t today.” Youngho announced, watching his friend’s face turn into a grimace. “I already told Taeil I’d go with him to a karaoke bar. He encountered with his ex yesterday, so…”

“Oh…” Taeyong giggled like a child. “ _Taeil_ again…”

“Yeah!” But Yuta sounded way less pleased. “It’s always Taeil _this_ , Taeil _that_ , Taeil, Taeil, _Taeil_! This is all you talk about!”

“What?” He shrugged at his friends. “We spend some time together and…”

“Do you like him?” In a more serious tone, Yuta questioned.

Youngho’s eyes widened as if he had got caught doing something wrong. Which was not too far from the truth.

“Oh… Oh!” Taeyong rejoiced. “You do! I know that face! It’s the same one you had when you had a crush on that Thai kid in high school, but was too afraid to even talk to him!”

“Shut up.” He feebly replied, looking down to wrap the meat on the lettuce.

“You are a disaster, aren’t you?” Yuta shook his head at him, crossing his arms over his chest. “First you hated him, now you like him? What’s next? The wedding?”

“Please…” Taeyong chuckled, poking Yuta on the arm. “You know he already imagined them getting marry by the beach, somewhere with warm weather.”

Well, at least someone was enjoying his internal dilemma.

“I hate both of you.”

 

* * *

 

The place was packed when they arrived there, a bit later than 9:00 p.m., but Taeil apparently knew the owner, so they were quickly given a karaoke room, much to the red-haired’s delight.

He had heard Taeil sing before, but it was mostly through the walls of his apartment and it was way too muffled for him to truly appreciate it. Nothing, absolutely nothing could be compared to how he sounded right there, standing right in front of him singing Jung Joon Il’s _Hug Me_ at the top of his lungs.

Youngho felt his limbs go numb as he gawked at that spectacle of human being showcasing one of his talents, heart pounding so hard it reverberated to his head.

All about him was beyond perfect.

One could see all the emotional package that it was needed to sing that sad song right on Taeil’s face, and for a moment Youngho couldn’t tell if he was truly feeling such things; until the moment the song ended, and the man bursted into laughter.

With red strands all over his face, he quickly sauntered towards Youngho.

“How was I?” His neighbor asked, panting a big as he plopped down on the couch next to him.

“ _How_?” Youngho mimicked his question, as if it as absurd. “You are fucking amazing. What the fuck is your vocal range?”

A new melody started playing in the background as it waited for other song to be sung, and he loved how he could see Taeil’s face flushing even under the strobe lights.

“I did vocal lessons during my whole childhood. Guess I still can do it.”

“Please.” Youngho brought his hands together, in a prayer. “Sing again, sing!”

Oh, boy. He should’ve known he wasn’t ready to not lose his shit when Taeil picked IU’s _Good Day_ on the karaoke screen, because not only he belted all the notes like any professional singer with that ability would, his neighbor also managed to make Youngho fall even more for him.

Where would he land? Or crash, to be more precisely? Questions he didn’t know if he wanted to know the answers, because what he feared more than heartache, was to lose Taeil’s friendship.

A moment to be sad about it would come, just not right now.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Youngho jumped off the couch at the same time Taeil ran back to him, so they almost collided against each other. “YOU… I HAVE NO WORDS!”

“Come on…” Embarrassed, the shorter man lightly punched him his biceps.

“I’m serious! You need to be out there singing to fucking MILLIONS! God, you are so goddamn brilliant. I don’t know what to do.”

Letting out a snort, Taeil went around the table settled in front of them to pick his phone.

“Seo, chill.”

“I’m serious, Taeil. You know that, right? That you are amazing? Not only in singing but… as a person. I feel like you haven’t been told that enough.”

The taller man took a seat on the couch again, taking a deep breath.

Meanwhile, Taeil just stood there, a couple of steps away.

“Youngho.”

“I feel like I’m gonna combust? How the hell are you that wonderful? How the hell were you born with all the qualities? You can sing beautifully and you _are_ beautiful, and—”

Taeil slowly started walking towards him, but he was too caught up in the moment.

“You have this fucking presence…” Making a quick pause, the younger sighed. “You look like a fucking giant, I swear to God. You can make any room…”

Not even in a thousand eons Youngho could’ve looked away. His breath was taken away as soon as Taeil quickened his steps and crashed his lips against Youngho’s and, to be completely honest, that could’ve been how he died. No enough oxygen, with Taeil’s raspberry chapstick lips on his own — not the worst scenario.

Youngho’s skin caught on fire the second he realized that was really happening; Taeil’s mouth moving eagerly against his own, his hands grabbing the sides of his face, which only prompted Youngho to gasp in the middle of the kiss like a fool, half by surprise, half because he imagined that more times than he was willing to admit, and none of his musings was as good as the real thing.

Taeil seemed desperate, speeding more and more once his tongue slid into Youngho’s mouth and the latter felt his stomach twist and pull in every possible direction, kissing back with the same intensity.

His back was fully against the couch once Taeil pulled away, with his neighbor’s body was practically over his, hot breath sweeping through Youngho’s face.

All the logic thoughts the younger could’ve had in that moment were shut down by his hands pulling Taeil down by the waist to sit on his lap, which Taeil quick straddled as he was drawn into another kiss.

Youngho’s body pulsated with life like it had never done it before, as if all those years he wandered around that city were in the form of a zombie, unaware of his lifelessness state. With one hand under Taeil’s chin, he could feel the man’s sweaty skin just as hot as his, but was utterly distracted from everything else once his tongue was inside Youngho’s mouth again, licking it with such confidence as if he had done a thousand times before.

Shamelessly, Youngho moaned against Taeil’s soft lips once the latter began to grind against him and, for a second, he wished things went a bit slower so he could feed on every single move the older man made against Youngho’s body — he didn’t think it was possible to ever be satisfied.  

Somehow, Taeil seemed to know exactly what he wanted and began to move his lips languidly against Youngho’s, whom now let his hands free to roam across Taeil’s body; a simple pull to get him impossibly closer had the red-haired shuddering, and Youngho was never more pleased to find out he was rather sensitive, deciding to play with whatever he could get his hands on.

Taeil sucked on his bottom lip when the younger raked his nails against his clothed thighs, swiftly making his way up to squeeze his ass, receiving a groan so loud, so needy, that would haunt Youngho for the rest of his life.

But his neighbor also knew how to make him wish for more as the man’s hands ran over his hair and slightly pushed it back as he began to grind against Youngho even harder; Youngho gasped as if the air was being sucked out of his lungs, opening his eyes to the beautiful sight of Taeil towering over him as the strobe lights danced over his red hair.

He looked like a mess that Youngho wished to craft on him every single day.

Brazenly moaning, Youngho’s fingers dipped under Taeil’s shirt to skim across his back and the man winced in pleasure, throwing his head back as if he was letting the ecstasy of their crotches rubbing against each other take over his whole being. Youngho felt like he was witnessing something too divine for his puny human brain to completely encapsulate the beauty of it.

In his mind, cautionary red lights flickering non-stop, even though it was already too late.

Maybe a couple of minutes, maybe hours, who the fuck knows how many time they spent like that, but the implications of that hit Youngho fast as soon as they broke their second kiss.

“We should stop.” He forced himself to say, voice way too hoarse.

The strobe lights now twirled on the older’s face as Taeil slowly opened his eyes, movements coming to a halt and hands calmly sliding down to settle on Youngho’s shoulders.

Taeil was beautiful beyond any word ever invented by humankind, and Youngho was a goddamn moron for falling in love with him.

“We should…” It is now or never, he thought. As swiftly as he could, the younger lifted Taeil up with him only to put him down on the couch. “I should go.”

“Wait, Youngho.” Life was tough, but having to deny anything when Taeil got up and held his hand was rougher. “I thought…”

“Yeah…” He nodded at the man, pulling his hand away from him only to place it under the red-haired’s chin. “I liked it. That’s the problem. I like you, Taeil. Fuck, I like you so much. I can’t do this… casual thing. I’m sorry.”

Like it had happened before, Youngho couldn’t decipher what it was in Taeil’s expression that rattled him so much. It could be sadness, pity, anger, pleasure… there was this singular mien that was more of a mystery to him that anything else in the world, and at times like that he wished he could be given a simple answer.

The whole thing felt like an out of the body experience. He was there, he felt how Taeil molded himself to fit perfectly under his touch and how the man tasted of raspberry and mint; yet, once the cold breeze from the last week of November hit him squarely in the face as soon as he walked away from the bar, it all seemed it could’ve been nothing but a dream.

A dream within a dream.


	2. TAEIL

Incessant knocks on the door and the blatant abuse of the poor doorbell were necessary to get the apartment owner to finally open the door.

“Taeil hyung?”

His childhood friend pressed his long navy robe against his chest with just one hand, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“I fucked up. Doyoungie, I fucked up.”

“What?”

But Taeil broke down into a sob before he could say anything further, letting his friend gently wrap his arms around him; that brat had no business in having grown up into such a tall fella, by the way.

The red-haired was a quiet and gullible kid during his school days, so he really couldn’t say no when one of his teachers asked him to be friends with Doyoung, a boy two years younger than him whom most of his classmates seemed to dislike.

Doyoung never cared it about it, though. He ignored everyone who said mean things to him and continued to do his best, which eventually earned him the label of Class President in middle school, alongside the title of top student of his class (every year).

Taeil, on the other hand, tried his best to continue to be invisible, but it was a bit difficult when you were Kim Doyoung’s only friend; he never really heard it directly from someone, but he knew people said mean things about his appearance and short height.

Because of it, he hated Doyoung for a while. Maybe in his last year in middle school, he didn’t remember well; Taeil said something about his younger friend being too conceited, that he should at least try to get people to think of him as less than just an uptight nerd.

That was the first time he saw Doyoung cry.

The older boy felt like shit for weeks until Doyoung finally accepted his apology. Under all that cold and unwavering facade was a very heartwarming kid, whom couldn’t hold a grudge for much longer.

More than ten years of friendship later, Taeil didn’t doubt for a second that he could lean on him in his time of need — the main reason why he chose that building when his parents offered him an apartment was because Doyoung lived there, and he didn’t want to be completely left behind.

“Here.” His slippers glided against his carpet as Doyoung scurried to the living room’s couch, with a glass of water in hand. “Now… explain.”

“I kissed him.” Taeil spouted, still feeling Youngho’s warmth lingering on his mouth. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Wait, who? Youngho? Your neighbor?”

“Don’t act like you’re not sure.” He gave the younger a knowing stare.

“Okay, okay.” Doyoung nodded, fidgeting with his hands over his lap. “And…?”

“And what?”

The taller huffed.

“I’m asking what happened after you kissed him, Mr. I’m Not Into My Neighbor.” With an eyebrow arched at him, the boy continued to mimic him. “‘Are you crazy, Doyoung? Why would I like him? He isn’t even—’”

His speech came to a halt when he noticed the glare Taeil was shooting at him.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t know what got into me.” Taeil sighed, bringing a hand to rub his face, not caring about his make-up. “I don’t do these things, you know.”

“I know.” His childhood friend snorted. “It took you your entire teenage years to finally kiss a boy.”

At first, Taeil thought there was something wrong with him. In high school, all the boys ever talked about was girls — kissing girls, jerking off to girls in porn movies, dating girls. And Taeil was having none of it, simply because he wasn’t… interested.

He thought girls were usually kind and charming, but that was it. There wasn’t a major attraction to the point of imagining himself doing romantic or sexual things with them, but he figured out it eventually would come up.

It didn’t.

But things changed the day Doyoung sat his bedroom’s floor and told him he was gay.

The boy looked scared, and Kim Doyoung feared nothing, so Taeil told him it was okay, that he didn’t mind — which only led the older to confess that he felt weird because of his lack of interest in girls, and Doyoung looked him dead in the eye and said, from the bottom of his heart “Hyung, you might be gay”.

His younger friend was right, as usual.

“Yah.” Taeil sniffled, drinking the almost forgotten water glass on his hands while Doyoung chuckled. “He kept saying these stupidly sweet things to me like I’m a god or something. He was there, being a goofy idiot and I don’t know, no one ever made me feel so… good. Then I kissed him, and he kissed me back…”

“Oh?”

“Yeah…” He sighed, placing the glass over Doyoung’s coffee table. “He pulled me into his lap and kissed me and Doyoung, I got so…”

“Okay, okay.” The man held a hand in front of him. “Not too many details.”

Taeil chuckled at his own misery.

“We kissed for a while then he suddenly pulled away saying that we should stop… and that he had to go, because he couldn’t do casual stuff because he likes me.”

“Oh?” His friend interjected, but there wasn’t much surprise in his face. “I saw you two around, he looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky. Why didn’t you tell him you like him too?”

“Because I…” Taeil blew air through his nose, letting his back fall against the couch. “I don’t know. There’s so much in my head, and I…”

“It’s alright.” Doyoung settled a hand on his shoulder, shooting a tender smile. “Sleep here tonight. We’ll handle it tomorrow.”

“Sleepover?”

“Yeah.” The younger’s smile got bigger, warmer. “Just like when we were kids.”

 

* * *

 

“Come on, hyung.”

Maybe it had been a mistake, after all, and Taeil gained nothing by going to talk with his neighbor, whom was apparently at home in that Friday morning — it’d be odd if he hadn’t reminded that Youngho told him, at some point, that it was his day off, since the clock nearly struck 9:00 a.m.

His feet seemed glued to the ground as soon as they took the elevator down to Taeil’s floor.

“How we even sure…” The older huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from his eye.

“He _is_ in there.” Doyoung reassured him, for the fifth time since they left his home. “Now go on.”

With a defeated sigh against Doyoung’s uncanny knowledge, Taeil pressed the doorbell of Youngho’s apartment with quivering hands.

His tall neighbor wasn’t the one who answered his call, though.

A slim blond man around his age, maybe younger, stared at them with a puzzled mien.

“Yes?” The blond kept a hold on the door, tilting his head sideways.

“I…” All his basic vocabulary suddenly seemed too hard to pronounce.

Thankfully, his friend took the lead.

“Hi, this is Moon Taeil, he lives next door. Can he talk to Youngho-ssi for a minute?”

The stranger now seemed rather bewildered, as if he had recognized something in Taeil he didn’t before knowing his name.

“Oh… so you are _the_ Taeil…”

 _The_ Taeil nodded firmly.

But rushing steps trudged in their direction before anyone could voice something, approaching the blond man at the speed of the wind.

“YAH, TAEYONG!” The man nearly jumped on the blond’s shoulder, poking him in the stomach — to which the blond man winced hard.

“Yuta!”

A flood of memories of all the times Youngho mentioned his best friends came to Taeil’s mind; of course, Taeyong and Yuta. He had seen a few pictures of them on his neighbor’s bedroom and a few times when the man showed him, on his phone, photographic registers of their long-term friendship.

“What are you doing…”

He knew that voice; raucous, but not unpleasant, not at all. Taeil liked when the taller dropped his tone as their conversations got deeper, which now he recognized it was way too dangerous for his heart.

Youngho froze on spot as he stood in the middle of his living room, wide eyes fixated on Taeil’s figure as if they were the only ones around.

“Hey.” The red-haired began, voice almost too small to be heard. “Can we… talk?”

No response came, so his friend took the matter into his own hands.

“Yah, you two. Come out.”

Taeyong was the one to reply.

“Why?”

“Because I’m telling you to. Now, move.”

Their staring contest was only broken because Taeyong bumped into him, as he and Yuta got dragged out the apartment by Doyoung.

Taeil’s gaze now shifted to the floor, focusing on the men’s banter to not acknowledge how badly his heart made backflips in his chest.

“Yah, you can’t do this! I’m gonna tell the landlord!” Taeyong whined, already down the hallway.

“I _am_ the landlord.” Doyoung bit back, quite toneless, but Yuta chuckled. “And you?”

“He’s single.” Yuta mentioned, which earned a shout of his outraged friend. “What? He’s bossy. Totally your type.”

“Hey.” Taeil’s head snapped back to his neighbor at the sound of the latter’s voice, sounding like a whisper closer to his ear. “Come in.”

His steps were a bit wobbly, but the red-haired made it inside the apartment.

“Are you hungry?” Youngho asked, with that low voice of his.       

Of course he had to be too goddamn sweet and worry about Taeil’s wellbeing, regardless of the awkward situation.

“I’m fine. Doyoung cooks well.” A pause almost lasted too long, and Taeil forced himself to look up at the taller man. “Youngho… about yesterday… It’s not like that.”

Youngho nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s okay.”

“No, lemme finish.” Taeil finally took a step ahead, moving in his direction. “I don’t regret it. I admit, I didn’t plan on… doing that, but… it wasn’t a mistake. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad, but I really don’t regret it.”

Now was Youngho’s gaze who shifted to the floor, letting the sunbeams kiss his dark strands like it was building a crown on his head.

“Taeil…” His head suddenly moved to stare at him again, but all Taeil’s brain could do was to think how handsome he was. “What do you want?”

_You._

His hasty thought scared even Taeil himself.

“I… I’m not good with words. But… it’s a bit hard for me to let people in. And yet, it has been just a month and you… I don’t want to lose you, but also… I don’t wanna be just friends.”

Once more, Youngho nodded.

“Jungwoo.”

His forehead puckered at the mention of his ex.

“What about him?”

“Do you still love him?”

“No.” The frown on Taeil’s head increased as he let out a huff. “No, no. I don’t think… I ever did. You know, love someone.”

“You think you could?” Youngho’s voice got even lower, almost in a murmur, but it resonated across Taeil’s body. “Fall in love.”

“I don’t know.” Which was the truth, what he deserved. “I don’t know. But if I ever did, I would it to be for someone like you.”

“Not someone like me. _Me_.”

Taeil sighed, rubbing his face after being struck by the sunlight.

“Just… don’t push me away. Can’t we take things slow, figure it out? I’m not playing with your feelings, I swear. If I didn’t… feel anything at all, I wouldn’t…”

“Okay.”

“What?” Youngho’s response was too sudden for the red-haired’s brain to process. “ _Okay_?”

“Yeah.” The taller chuckled a bit, scraping the back of his neck. “If I have a chance, I’ll take it. So let’s go slow.”

 

* * *

 

Things got awkward for a while, to be sincere. With the brand new discovered feelings between them, they didn’t know where the new boundaries stood, but they figured it out along the way. Kind of.

Their routine went back to the same antics of always; first thing in the morning, Taeil still pondered what to do with his life while he still hadn’t run out of money, then greeted Youngho in the elevator in the morning and walked around the neighborhood, occasionally bothering Doyoung while the clock didn’t strike 7:00 p.m., the time Youngho usually came back from work. All was well.

Or so that’s what Taeil told himself as he sat on Youngho’s couch, watching the man decorate a fake Christmas three.

“So…” The red-haired shifted closer to the edge of the couch, pressing his legs against his chest. “When do you move out?”

That’s a topic he noticed Youngho was avoiding talking about these days, even though the man mentioned before that his stay there was no longer than three months, fated to end in that month of December.

He could sense Youngho stiffening as he took a seat on the floor to know finish wrapping the presents he bought.

“A day after Christmas.” The younger mumbled. “My relatives come back on the 27th. Why?”

_So, a week from now…_

“I’m gonna miss you.”

Youngho suddenly hissed in pain, and Taeil’s legs moved before he could form a decent thought only to plop down next to the man.

“Are you okay?” He inquired, wide eyes gazing as his neighbor sucked the blood of his wound, clumsily dropping the scissors. “Youngho—”

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” His response was in English, using fervent nods to assure the red-haired.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Taeil repeated, just in case Youngho hadn’t heard. “Really.”

Slowly raising his head, something in Youngho’s look made him a bit shy.

“Me too.” Youngho smiled tenderly, and his goddamn heart skipped a beat. “It’s gonna be weird not to have you next door.”

“Then move in into another apartment here.”

A bit of blood still dripped from his neighbor’s finger, so Taeil took the scissor away from him, looking around for the wrap paper.

“Please.” The younger chuckled. “I’m just a piano teacher. I can’t afford rent here.”

“I know…” Taeil’s voice was suddenly way whinier for his like. He didn’t wail like a child, and yet… “It’s fine.”

Amidst the comfortable silence that grew between them, Youngho tried to get the scissors back, but Taeil protectively hid it behind his back.

“Gimme that. Do you even know how to wrap?”

“I know!” He threw the man a scowl. “You just hurt yourself, you’re not in position to criticize.”

“And I don’t want you to get hurt. Gimme.”

“No.”

“Moon.”

“Seo.”

The younger was silly enough to try to get the scissors at all costs, which led the man to basically throw himself on top of Taeil, while the latter propped himself up on his elbows.

For a moment, the awkwardness in the silence between had returned as they stared at each other with a tiny panting escaping their mouths, but then, just like a heavenly revelation, Taeil simply knew he had enough.

His hand rushed up to Youngho’s face and pulled the man down into a rough kiss, just pressing their lips together in such a desperation Taeil didn’t know he had in him.

A deep hum escaped his neighbor’s mouth as the man pulled away first, but gently resting his arm around Taeil’s waist.

“Taeil…” Youngho’s breath burned on his face and he felt like his thirst could never be quenched; they were simply centimeters apart, with Youngho’s thumb rubbing a circle on his back. “I thought… you wanted slow.”

“Yeah…” He had to force himself to stop staring at the younger’s lips, now locking eyes with him. “But… like… fat lazy cat slow, not turtle slow.”

Youngho laughed against his mouth and the older’s stomach was filled with annoying butterflies that didn’t know the concept of calming down; before Taeil could properly notice, the man chucked the scissor away and leaned over him until Youngho was on top of Taeil’s body, drawing back the previous arm on his waist.

He still looked a bit unsure.

“Is this okay?”

Taeil unconsciously grinned at him, resting a hand on the younger’s cheek, which did not do a better job to contain the clutter happening in his chest.

But maybe that’s what one is supposed to feel, he concluded, at some point. Most of his previous relationships had followed the pattern of Taeil being the one who liked the most — he never said those three words to anyone before, because it wasn’t true and if there was something Taeil hated was being lied to.

He could feel in his bones that, this time, was different. Youngho was different, not only because he drowned Taeil in compliments with the foolish elation of a child and was way too soft for such giant man, but also because there wasn’t a time that Youngho said something that he didn’t mean it.

One could say it was a pretty radical belief about someone he had known for just a few months, but Taeil had this certainty ingrained on himself that it was almost annoying.

The thing is Taeil liked him, maybe to the point of saying — not out loud — that he fell in love with the guy, but the past years forced him to change into a thick skin so he could survive on his own. Being essentially disowned by the people who brought him into this world, just because he’s not into the opposite sex, broke something inside Taeil he didn’t know it was possible to be shattered.

It did, though. Not even his sister spared him a look the last time he had been over his parent’s place, but he didn’t blame her — she was a teenager still learning about how the world truly works, so what could he demand from a kid? The things happen as they should, or so Taeil liked to believe.

When nights were too harsh on him and he felt uncontrollable tears rolling down hot against his face, Taeil told himself it was going to be okay — that he’d be okay, that he could do _that,_  whatever _that_ was. But without noticing, he became a quite defensive, cynical person who would jump at the first sign of change, fighting like a wild animal to preserve what was his — what was stable — which was really not much.

That’s probably why he freaked out and yelled at Jungwoo when the man told him he had been meeting someone else, because deep down Taeil already knew that, he just didn’t want to acknowledge how there are things that simply cannot be saved by the work of his solitary hands — Jungwoo, his relationship with his parents, his sense of being lost in the world.

It was okay, maybe.

“What are you thinking about?”

Youngho’s voice came out husky enough to give him goosebumps; they still lied down over the carpet in the living room, now side by side while mindlessly watching the multicolored lights twinkling on the Christmas tree.

“Myself.”

“Well, that’s a bit egotistical. I thought you’d say ‘you’.”

Taeil let out a snort, rolling to his side and wrapping an arm around his neighbor’s chest. He could feel the man stiffening for a fleeting moment when Taeil rested his head on his shoulder, but Youngho quickly stretched out his arm, letting the older curl up against him.

“I like it.” Youngho muttered, and Taeil now lifted his head to gaze at him. “When you initiate skinship.”

His giddiness made him crane his neck up a bit, planting a kiss under Youngho’s chin, prompting the latter to engulf him into a full bear hug.

After a chaste kiss, Taeil rested his forehead against Youngho’s when the younger man spoke again.

“I’m in love with you, Moon.”

In a heartbeat, a reply and a zealous smile.

“I know, Seo.”

 

* * *

 

Christmas came faster than Taeil expected, and to be honest, faster than he wished it did. Among the annual celebrations, it had become his least favorite one since he parted ways with his parents, for all his supposedly warm and precious childhood memories of spending Christmas as a family died the moment he wasn’t recognized as a part of it anymore.

So yeah, not his favorite thing.

But Youngho insisted there was no reason for him to spend it by himself when the younger was just next door, having a gathering with his best friends.

Yuta brought his boyfriend, Yoonoh, whom Taeil found it to be a sweet guy — he could see why there was so much adoration in Yuta’s eyes whenever he looked at his partner — and Taeyong brought his hunger with him, occasionally throwing a weird glare at Doyoung, whom Taeil had dragged there with him for emotional support in case things didn’t go well.

It went better than Taeil expected, and the dinner was lovely just as everything Youngho cooked. The atmosphere was cozy and homey-like, which possibly made that the best Christmas the red-haired had in a long time.

Their relationship wasn’t out of the other men’s perception, though. Not that it bothered him, but every time Youngho laid a hand on his arm or looked at him for a bit longer than necessary with those irresistible puppy eyes, Taeil could feel the others’ eyes on him and a multitude of _aw_ coming out of their mouths.

So, _so_ silly. Yet, what truly disconcerted him was the exchanging gift moment of the night.

Youngho was excited to have his friends opening the presents; Taeyong got a new headphone, Yuta was gifted with a coal black leather jacket, Yoonoh received an album from a solo artist he liked and even Kim fucking Doyoung got a poetry book, which he was quite taken aback by, babbling some sort of apology for not bringing anything, to which Youngho simply dismissed with a “don’t worry”.

Someone mentioned the fact that Youngho hadn’t given Taeil anything, and the taller had the goddamn audacity of shrugging it off, engaging in another conversation after having the nerve of a loving gaze at the red-haired.

Taeil didn’t care about gifts, but he also didn’t like to feel left out.

Everyone continued to have a good time until the party hours came to an end, and Taeil only nodded, from the couch, at the men now bidding farewell to his neighbor.

If anyone noticed he was sulking, no word was spoken about.

As soon as Youngho closed the door behind him, he sighed.

“You are mad.”

“I’m not.” Taeil lied, pressing his legs against his chest.

“I got you a gift, you know.” The man announced as he strolled closer to him. “But it’s for your eyes only. Or ears?”

“What?” He suddenly craned his neck upwards.

“Wait here.”

With a lopsided grin, the taller disappeared inside his apartment for less than a minute, coming back to the living room with a keyboard on a tripod.

As the man settled things straight so he could play, Taeil’s mind spaced out into the void, but the sound of Youngho’s fingers aimlessly hitting the keys brought him back from his reveries.

“I’m very nervous.” The younger confessed, letting out an anxious chuckle.

There was no sheet for Youngho to follow, so he guessed it was something the man was used to play.

Taeil didn’t expect him to sing, but he did. And his voice was beautiful, a lot lower than his own, as expected, but so alluring that he forgot he had to focus on understanding the lyrics, because they were in English.

_If all our life is but a dream_

_Fantastic posing greed_

_Then we should feed our jewelry to the sea_

_For diamonds do appear to be_

_Just like broken glass to me_

His breath got caught in his throat and it stung Taeil’s chest, letting himself get lost in Youngho’s mellow tone and somehow still focus on the way the man keeps the melody on minor keys.

Near the chorus, Youngho’s gaze landed on him.

_Hey moon, please forget to fall down_

_Hey moon, don't you go down_

There was no doubt that Taeil could feel his face growing hot as his eyes teared up; the outside world was completely forgotten under the veil of what they had in there.

_Sugarcane in the easy morning_

_Weathervanes my one and lonely_

Youngho nearly missed a note, and Taeil unconsciously laughed.

_Hey moon, please forget to fall down_

His eyes landed on the red-haired again, whom had a tear rolling down his cheek.

_Hey moon, don't you go down_

_You are at the top of my lungs_

_Drawn to the ones who never yawn_

The last note was played carefully, and Taeil almost asked for Youngho to keep going because that was the sweetest thing someone had ever done for him, and he didn’t want it to end so soon; if any moment in human history deserved to last more, it was that one.

“Taeil?” Youngho’s voice had a lot of expectance on it, and the older noticed he zoned out once again as he gawked at the younger man.

Unsure to how express how loved he felt, wittiness was the weapon of choice.

“I knew you were an emo.”

That helped soothe Youngho’s nerves, whom snorted as he stepped away from the keyboard.

“So…” Now that he stood in front of Taeil, the shyness as he scratched the back of his neck was clear. “Did you—”

“Yes.” Taeil immediately replied, leaving no space for disbelief. His chest felt so light he truly believed he could fly. “You are…” With a contented sigh, he got off the couch, ambling to meet him midway. “Wonderful. You are incredible, you know that?”

Taeil’s hand stretched up to get a hold of Youngho’s neck, and the way he melted under his palm was his favorite thing in the whole universe.

“No more than you.”

That time, as the snow fell outside the window, he didn’t care how badly his stomach flipped only at the sound of Youngho’s voice and how he trembled for a moment as the man encircled his waist with both arms. That time, their lips met along the way as they pressed their bodies against each other with a fervor that was amazingly rough and tender all at once.

“Hey.” Taeil’s voice came out as a murmur as Youngho leaned down enough for him to wrap his arms around the man’s neck. “I like you. So much.”

His heart skipped another beat at the way the taller gave him a huge smile, as if he had gotten the best news on Earth, and Taeil chuckled in the middle of a squeal when strong arms picked him up, wasting no time in wrapping his legs around Youngho’s torso.

The path down the bedroom was filled with light kisses and teeth raking down the younger’s neck, whom alternated between letting out small gasps and happy giggles.

Taeil’s skin felt colder when they broke apart for a moment, as Youngho gently laid him down on bed.

Like a child wanted to be picked up again, Taeil stretched up his arms only for the younger kneel down in bed, hovering over him with the sweetest grin on his face as Youngho tangled their fingers.

“Hey, Moon.” He muttered, and the memory of him singing made Taeil smile like a fool. “I’m, very, very in love with you.”

Suddenly his face flushed, but the red-haired didn’t care and pulled him down by the shirt to whisper against his mouth.

“Me too, Seo. Me too.”


	3. TAEIL & YOUNGHO

_4 MONTHS LATER_

His eyes were fixated on the beer in front of him, over the table, but Youngho wasn’t actually looking at it — all an excuse to not seem like he was spacing out into the thoughts about what happened the day before.

Yuta was speaking, voice sounding a tad distant, so Youngho forced himself to pay attention, shooing those musings away with a head shake. Ultimately, he decided it was better to ask for his friends’ opinions.

“Taeil said the… L word to me.”

Their table suddenly went quiet, and his friends stared at him with a mix of shock and bewilderment at the sudden revelation.

His Japanese friend was the first to say something about it.

“Lay? I miss him with EXO too.”

Beside him, Taeyong snorted.

“Come on, man.” Youngho groaned, being more dramatic than he needed to be, he didn’t care. “Seriously…”

“What’s the problem with it?” Yuta retorted. “It’s not like you don’t love him too.”

“I don’t think he meant it.”

“Why?” Taeyong frowned, finishing his dumpling soup. “You are his boyfriend. I mean, until last year you guys bickered over a noise complaint but…”

“He slept over at mine’s didn’t know where he put his wallet, and was going crazy over it this morning. I told him where it was and he let out a sigh of relief, kissed me and said ‘you are a saint, I love you!’. And just… dashed away.”

Taeyong squinted at him.

“It doesn’t necessarily mean he said just for, you know, saying it. Maybe he does love you, so it’s his natural reaction…”

“You know what?” Yuta spouted after downing another drink. “Talk to your man. Being here wondering what the hell was that about will do you no good.”

 

* * *

 

An upbeat song played outside the kitchen’s window, down the street, but Taeil couldn’t put his finger on when he had listened to it before. His brain wasn’t putting much effort into it, though, so it was probably one of those things that would be found out in a better timing, or never.

The ramen was hot as fuck as he slurped it in, but he didn’t care; it served as a distraction to his thoughts, and Taeil really needed not to think about that day, or just that morning in particular.

Wearing only boxers and a black tee, Taeil nearly fell off the stool he sat next to the kitchen counter of Youngho’s apartment when he heard the electronic sound of the front door being unlocked; could he spring to the bedroom, pretend he was already asleep and escape that conversation at least for that night? His boyfriend’s place wasn’t particularly big, so maybe he had a chance if he made it around the corner down the hallway.

“Babe?”

A heartfelt _fuck_ escaped Taeil’s mouth, and he dumped the plastic ramen pot on the garbage can as Youngho found him in the kitchen.

“Hey…” He couldn’t look at the taller and pretend nothing happened, so Taeil went to wash his hands on the sink.

“How was your day?”

He sounded tired, and all Taeil wanted was to quietly pull him into his chest and play with his hair.

But, yeah, right, the issue.

“Fine, fine.” His voice came out way too low. “Yours?”

“Good. Met Yuta and Tae, had some drinks…” For a moment, Youngho let the cozy silence that reigned fill the apartment as a whole, and Taeil felt a bit more relaxed. “Taeil, can we talk?”

Fuck, he spoke too soon.

Taeil turned off the tap, and sighed quietly before turning around to face him.

“About…”           

His boyfriend was a handsome man, that was an unchangeable fact to him and the rest of humanity, but the dimmed lights of the intersection of the counter and the beginning of the living room made him look like an otherworldly being, and maybe Taeil fell in love all over again.

Right, that word…

“I know it’s probably nothing…” Youngho pouted, fumbling with the hem of his shirt. “But… did you mean it? This morning…”

“Yeah.”                                                         

His boyfriend’s gaze became sharper.

“You know what I’m talking about?”

“Yeah.” Taeil repeated, telling himself that it was all okay, that it was nice to love and be loved in return. He was an adult in a healthy relationship, goddamnit. “I did mean it. I do.”

Something in Youngho’s eyes glinted with hope of hearing those three words again, and Taeil chuckled at how transparent that man was.

“I’ve been planning to say it for a while now. I wished it had come out in a better moment, but yeah… I love you. I love you, Seo Youngho.”

When Youngho told Taeil that he loved him, two months before, it scared the living shit out of the older man; their relationship had a strong foundation, impossible to be compared to any other Taeil ever had, simply because he didn’t feel the need to keep making extravagances to assure himself that what they had was good enough.

But not only was that his first time hearing that word and feeling it radiating through Youngho’s pores in such earnest way, Taeil also didn’t know if he could say the same in a near future.

So he wondered about how much Youngho meant to him, and how his life had changed ever since he decided to bother his ex-neighbor, and actual boyfriend.

Nothing that Youngho touched in his life was the same, and if what he felt for that giant softy wasn’t love, perhaps was something beyond it, lacking a proper name in their language. Meanwhile, love would suffice the necessity of capturing the feelings that seemed to bloom every day a bit more, and this time Taeil wasn’t afraid of it, not when what was at risk was the man he treasured more than anything.

It was not until when the shorter man pulled Youngho into a hug that his boyfriend snapped out of his little trance, swiftly wrapping his arm around the back of his thighs to pick Taeil bridal style, giggling alongside the older as he led them towards the bedroom.

 

* * *

 

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

It’s Taeil’s voice, orotund on his ears as they laid naked on the bed. The moonlight shyly entered the room through the only window of Youngho’s room, creating perfect stripes across the carpet.

Shifting to lay on his side, Youngho brought a hand to his boyfriend’s face.

“I love you, so much.”

The penumbra in the room didn’t erase the gummy smile on Taeil’s face, moving closer to lay his head on Youngho’s chest.

“I got an interview.” The older suddenly announced. "Tomorrow."

Pulling back a bit so he could look at the man, Youngho’s face was of delight.

“In that music company? Really?”

Taeil quickly looked away, as if it was something to be embarrassed about.

“Yeah.” His boyfriend chuckled. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“You are amazing and talented. If they don’t see it, it’s their loss. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

With a feeble huff, Taeil leaned his chin over the younger’s chest, without breaking his gaze.

“I am happy. With you.” In a swift move, the older leaned for a peck on the lips. “By the way, that kid asked about me again? That student that wanted me to become a teacher there too.”

Youngho is the first the cackle, bring a hand to rub his face, and Taeil followed.

“I wish I knew what peace looks like whenever I have to teach Donghyuck. He’s _obsessed_ with you ever since he saw you playing that Michael Jackson song when you went to visit me.”

“Aw…” He blew air through his nose before chortling. “I might adopt him.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?” He legitimately whined, as if it was a serious option.

“Because you are still a baby. Babies can’t take care of other babies.”

“I’m older than you, boy.”

Crinkling his nose, Youngho laughed quietly before and after pressing a kiss on Taeil’s nose.

“Still a baby. My baby.”

 

* * *

 

To leave the comfort of his spot in bed beside his boyfriend was a torture, but Youngho found solace in the fact that was already Friday, so it wouldn’t take long for him to have Taeil in his arms again.

Little did he know that Taeil wasn’t going to let him forget that he had the most determined boyfriend in the country.

A déjà vu struck his mind as he watched a small hand block the elevator doors from closing, allowing the sight of Taeil in stripped pajamas entering the elevator.

His freshly dyed brown hair stuck out in dozens of different directions, and Youngho had to bite his lower lip to not laugh at how cute he was.

“Seo.” Taeil greeted him with a hoarse tone, moving to his side.

“Moon.” He said in return. “Not looking too sharp today.”

“Well…” The shorter sighed, staring at the doors closing in front of them. “My boyfriend was in a good mood last night. I didn’t sleep much.”

“He is one lucky fella.” As he looked down to stare at him, Taeil looked up at the same time. “I’d love to be in bed with you.”

“Hey!” With a gasp, Taeil feigned an offended look. “I have a boyfriend! Don’t flirt with me!”

“It’s stronger than me.” Youngho snorted. “What did you come here looking so cute for?”

Before his eyes could keep up with his actions, his boyfriend leaped forward and hit the stop button of the elevator, just right before they reached the ground floor.

“For this.”

A pair of familiar lips eagerly collided against his, and Youngho’s instinct immediately had him sliding his tongue in Taeil’s mouth; he tasted of toothpaste and sleepiness, and Youngho wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

He was going to be late for his first class, but it was totally worthy.

Taeil pulled away and pressed a peck against his lips, simpering as he studied the effects of the power he had over Youngho. Without turning around, he pressed the stop button again and the elevator once again returned to its normal path.

“Okay, maybe I’ll give you a chance. Don’t tell my boyfriend.” The shorter murmured, still way too close, standing on his toes to press a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.

Youngho snickered, shaking his head as he wrapped an arm around Taeil’s waist.

“Do you have anything you want me to _tell_ him?”

With a huge smile that made his eyes wrinkle, Taeil nodded.

“Tell him that I might call him later because I’ll be nervous with my interview, and his voice helps me calm down.”

“He’s probably gonna tell you that you can call whenever you need, even though he’s sure everything will go well.”

“Uhm…” The shorter threw his head back, and his brown locks fell backwards. Whenever Youngho mentioned how he missed his red hair, the older man always replied with ‘But my scalp doesn’t’. “I don’t know… Does he love me that much?”

“To the moon, and never back.” Youngho pinched his cheek for a second, bringing his hand to Taeil’s chest without breaking his gaze. “To _my_ moon, and nothing else.”

_Ting._

The elevator doors swung open, but his boyfriend still had something to say.

“Stop making puns with my last name, will you?”

“What?” Snorting, Youngho stepped out of the elevator to the main lobby, pretending he didn’t hear what Taeil said. “Can’t hear you!”

His boyfriend’s shoulder rested on the space between the doors, making it impossible for it to close down.

“I hate you, Seo!”

Youngho was already half down the lobby when he turned around, making a big heart with his arms.

“MOON!” His voice came out in a shout, and even though he wasn’t one of making scenes, Youngho didn’t care much just for once. “I WILL LOVE YOU UNTIL THE DAY I DIE!”

It was a line from an old movie he used to watch with his parents on Christmas mornings, but Youngho didn’t mean anything less than it.

Taeil let out a defeated huff and rolled his eyes at him, stepping inside the elevator again with a grin on his adorable little face.

The sudden thought that his life felt too good to be true suddenly struck Youngho, but if all of that was nothing but a dream, he wished to never wake up; when or where Taeil existed, so did Youngho, in what he believed to be his eternal search for the other half of his soul in every life he ever had.

It only felt right for him to be the one to chase Taeil across ten, two thousand lives in an endeavor to be loved back.

**Author's Note:**

> hey! thank you very much for reading. i apologize if i suck a bit with the characterization, it is my first time writing about them, but i'll get better as i write more about this couple. should i write more? probably, i still have some prompts. the song youngho sang is northern downpour - p!atd.
> 
> you can find me on twitter on ([@chwkdy](https://twitter.com/chwkdy/)) <3


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